


The Black little book:  How tugarin and the dead-man were seeking for Kashchei… PART 1.

by Leo_Mercutio



Series: NOTepic [1]
Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Slavic Mythology & Folklore
Genre: Gen, Ilya Muromets - Freeform, Kashchei, Koschei - Freeform, Magic, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 22:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leo_Mercutio/pseuds/Leo_Mercutio
Summary: …Young nomad tsar dream about a revenge, about the real power and about  new life for his people.…Not so young upir dream only about revenge.…In a faraway land the black god, immortal necromancer is sleeping and dream to be awaken.





	The Black little book:  How tugarin and the dead-man were seeking for Kashchei… PART 1.

**Author's Note:**

> This tale is a part of my novel “NOTepic”, inspired by “Ilya Muromets” movie (“Sword and Dragon” in USA and UK, 1956).  
And, yes, english is not my native language. It’s my first work in it. 
> 
> ***  
Kashchei – one of the most powerful and mean characters in Russian folklore. Necromancer and king (tsar) of world of Death. In English used form “Koschei”, but in my opinion “Kashchei” closer to russian pronounce. 
> 
> Upir – vampire, ghoul in Russian and Slavic folklore. 
> 
> Tugars – fictional people mixed of Tatars, Mongols and, probably, Scythians. First apperring in “Ilya Muromets” (“Sword and Dragon” in USA and UK, 1956). Before, in legends and literature, word “tugarin” was just a name usually for villains.

TUGARIAN TSAR AND UPIR

The summer became mature, fruits ripened, fields were full of rye…  
So tugars came for treat and for the food to eat in winter. So the were taking it all from Russian towns and villages. And they were burning towns and villages…

…Nice little village were burning quite good. Sheaves of fire, pillars of smoke – right to the sky. Sky is moody, sky is gloom, full of black clouds, moment – and that will cry a river.  
Terekey Kalinovich sitting in his saddle, looking to the village, to the sky. Thinking… I am just like a homeless mean hound. My father, great tsar Kalin, was a great warrior, he almost took the Kiev, the heart of Russian lands… And me? Is it my deal – to burn villages to dust?  
The handsome warrior Gachay-murza is here too, beside his young tsar. Yes, handsome warrior Gachay, tall, all of black and gold.  
“Why do you in such sorrow, my master? We’ve got a good prey…”  
“Yes, we’ve got. But it’s still not enough for all winter time.”  
“We’ll take more. There are a lot of villages, a lot of prey in Russian land…”

“Freeze and name you!”, guardians shouted behind tsar and his warrior.  
And an arrow whistled in the air, and became quiet…  
Horse with a horseman stepped out from thin forest. Horseman taking an arrow out from his chest… and there no a drop of blood on an arrow. Horseman – comely, pale lad – is smiling, showing a long pearl-white teeth.  
“Hello there, tsar Terekey Kalinovich!” he speaks and looks not to Terekey but to Gachay, handsome warrior, all of black and gold. “You are so brave, you are so strong… What a great, big city have you took tonight! The next will be Constantinople, city of kings?..”  
“How dare you to speak to tugarian tsar in this way?” asking Terekey faster than Gachay opened his mouth to laugh and before he rose up his hand to cut off the horsemans’ head. “Who are you?”  
“My name is Gorizvet Jelanovich from Divyi Yar, the city wich was burnet to dust years ago. But who are you? I need to speak with tsar of tugars.”  
“I am Gachay-murza”, Terekey saying. “I am a true servant of tsar. But why does he need to listen to you? Or maybe you need something?”  
“Yes, you’re right, Gachay. I need something… But I think your tsar will accept my help too. If he wants to take the Kiev. If he wants to put head of Little Falcon, son of Muromets, on a spear on a city’s wall…”  
“You’re late, Gorizvet. Head of Little Falcon is lying underground, rotten. He took his death from tugarian poison.”  
“Have you drunk a lot of sour horse milk, Gachay? He is alive and prospering. He and son of Dobrynya and children of Alyosha Popovich – they burned my home and killed my people… All what had left… So far I’m wandering by the roads, alone.”  
Gachay and Terekey looked to each other. Gachay sat on his saddle straightly, like the tsar.  
“You tell a wonder things, Gorizvet Jelanovich. So continue…”  
“Be so kind, tsar… Things I want to say are only for you, not for you guardians. Let’s go for a little walk. There is no one to be afraid anymore, isn’t it?”

Carpet had been spread out under an old oak-tree. And there, on that carpet – jar with the wine, three goblets and bread. Bread powdered by ash, just from oven, which only had left on smouldering ruins.  
And there, on that carpet – Terekey Kalinovich sitting, and Gachay-murza, and Gorizvet Jelanovich. Guardians left aside – they are watching, they are waiting, they holding their bows and arrows…  
Gachay saying: “So speak, Goritzvet Jelanovich.”  
“But I wanted to speak just with you, tsar of tugars.”  
“This men – one of my closest people. You can speak to him as with me.”  
“As you wish, tsar. So listen… Once I had a strange guest at my house. It was a stranger from a far Arabian land. This arab didn’t say much to us – my people and I were hungry, winter was cold… But he was scribe and scientist. And there is something left after him…” Gorizvet took a bundle from inside his caftan, unwrapped it… And tugars saw an old book. And a little sack of leather. Gorizvet opened the book. It was ancient book, it’s pages were covered by Arabian lace-like writing, and rows of Latin, and a little of Russian…  
“Arab told me he came from the future times, he told he’s able to command spirits and demons. And he was looking for an ancient god. A black god, the immortal tsar. Somehow this Arabian stranger knew that this black god should appear soon in our corner of the world. He was great and strong and awful. No cellars, nor chains had a power above him. He created a might spell to be free f everything. And he was no look like humankind anymore. But time has passed. Black god, immortal tsar was defeated, banded and forgotten. He sleeps in a deadly moor, in three coffins – one inside the other. The first made of stone, the second made of oak, the third made of ice… And someday the black god will be awake and he will go through all of this world like a plague…”  
“And so what?” Gachay asking. “What is good for us if that god will do it? Or do you mean through Russian world but not the Horde?”  
“Tsar Kalin had the Horde. Now it’s over. It’s not the simple plague. Eat the Russian bread and listen. That’s what the book say… The black god waits for someone who will take him out of his old jail. That man should to put on the ring with a shatter of ancient Ice, Fore-Ice form Buyan Island – and then to open three coffins and command the black god to rise… So he will become an owner of black god.”  
Gorizvet said so and took from a little sack the ring. The ring with a piece of stone – not faceted but chipped. So bright, so bluish white, that Terekey felt a pain in his eyes. And shivering under the skin.  
But Gorizvet put the ring on his finger, looked at it, smiled.  
“How do you dare to put it on?”  
“Why should I do not dare? Gachay-murza-donnknow-your-father’s-name? It’s soon will be a hundred years since I’m dead.”  
“But why you’ve come to us? If you already have this power, why do you need us? Why didn’t you go to Kiev, to Vladimir the Red Sun?”  
“I can’t go there alone. I need alive companion. And there is something more in this book I don’t understand – the whole way but in Arabian. I need someone to read this. I’m sure I’ve got such man, tsar of tugar. And about Kiev… Where was Kiev when my town was burned to dust? Yes, by your steppe people. But that’s the life you’ve always lived. And no Russian city came for help… And I want make them beg for help!..”  
“You are blood lusting, Gorizvet…”  
“I feel a lust for blood for a century. I was left and several of mine people. Lived like beasts. And even then – bogatyr’s children have come and destroy all I’ve got. And now I’m angry. I want to burn the whole world by my angriness. We got the same aim. That’s why I came to you…”  
Gachay had listened and asks:  
“So why do we need you, Gorizvet Jelanovich? See, here is the book, here is the ring. And there are our archers…”  
“You’ve seen already how much I’m afraid of your archers, tsar of tugars. No an arrow in my life brought me death. And may I ask, tsar, do really want to take tis ring by the force? But if you’ll give me a companion you can trust – your true warrior, noble murza, for example – he will help me to go there and he will be safe with me…”  
“But I’m sure you want to command immortal tsar to rise by yourself.”  
“Of course, I want to do it by myself! But if don’t need a part of this great power, so… Maybe I’m just spending your time, tsar?”  
Gorizvet staring at Gachay, Gachay sitting straightly as a tsar.  
Terekey saying:  
“Let me say only a word, tsar of tugars… And you, our kind guest, please, leave us for a while.”  
Gachay nodded to the both. You – say, you – leave.  
Gorizvet smiled, took the book and moved away – to walk around the old oak tree.  
Gachay waited a little and then bowed to Terekey.  
“What should I do, tsar?”  
“Welcome this upir to my pavilion. We’ll see what so important there is in his book.”  
“You’re wise, tsar of tugars! And… if I may say – this great power could be a great help for our people!”  
And so tugars welcomed Gorizvet Jelanovich to be their guest, and sent a messenger to tugarian camp to find an interpreter.  
Jar was empty, wine was gone, servants began to wrap the carpet.  
And Terekey looked up for the first time since they’ve come under the oak tree.  
This old oak tree lived for a long time, longer that this poor village. He spread his branches covered by gold and crimson of summer fall.  
Village people dressed him up for holiday…  
One or two days – and could be a great holiday.  
The part of harvest lied near the roots, ribbons shivered on knotty branches… And there were faces – of wood, of leather. They were floating among the leaves, looking at young tugarian tsar. Not welcome… 

GUEST OF TUGARS

So Gorizvet Jelanovich came and stayed for a time at the tugarian camp. At the camp which didn’t moved for years a become almost a town. A capital of nowhere…  
Gorizvet dressed up new clothes made of silk, new shoes of soft leather and new caftan of velvet with patterns and gems.  
He had a young girl for dinner…  
And then, at the first evening they’ve got together – Gorizvet, Gachay, Terekey Kalinovich and the old interpreter. Interpreter knew that he should name Terekey Kalinovich “Gachay-murza” and Gachay – “tsar Terekey Kalinovich” or he will lose his tounge.  
So he read the book and murmured, for only do not gave a gaze to anyone, because any gaze could be a mistake.  
“It’s a wonderful book, my tsar! Here is a horrible wisdom, a dark power. Allow me not to read it hole…”  
“Do not!” Gachay answers. “Read only what my guest command to read.”  
“Thank you, my tsar! Here is about the ring. The ring with the piece of ancient Fore-Ice, from Buyan Island, which rose first from the sea when the time began… Every thing on the Earth began there. Even this immortal tsar, the black god. This is his ring. It gives him power over death, over time, over plague… And the power over the black god himself. The one who will put this ring on will awake the black god, he will became an owner… But the price is great. The price your own life.”  
“Scary…” Gorizvet whispering. “Could be a hundred years ago. What’s next?”  
“The next… Step by step. You should ride by the Giant’s path to the east for three days, there you will find an idol which watches right to the North. Feed idol by bread, water and wine, and your living blood. Than eat what idol has. And sleep. At the morning idol will turn to rising sun. Go there. There will be trail, and then will be paling. Then old woman will tell you where to go…”  
Interpreter hushed. The text was over.  
“Well?..” Terekey asking. “What an old woman?”  
“Here is nothing about it, noble murza. I think it would be clear in the end…”  
Gorizvet frowns:  
“But what a Giant’s path? Is there something about it?”  
“I will tell you,” Terekey answering before interpreter. “Once we caught a giant’s cub. He and his parents were wondering to the North of us, near the forest. The mark of this path – old stone bridge look like a sleeping giant.”  
“But I know this bridge! It’s not far from my native land. What does it mean? This way was so close to me all of this time? That’s why that Arabian warlock came to my place…” Gorizvet laughed and clapped his hands. “So what’s your word, tugarian tsar? Or you should think…”  
Gachay answears:  
“I should think and I should call a Council with my closest people. And you – be my guest.”

***  
The day came. While Gorizvet was asleep, Terekey Kalinovich had a Council with all noble tugars and warriors. All have said – if it’s possible to have this power, tugars meant to have it!  
Then Terekey asked advise from Jasminsyloo, his favorite concubine. And she kissed hand of her beloved master, and she said she boring his child in her womb, and she said that this is the sign – if he want to have great power, he should go for it by himself. 

Young tsar Terekey Kalinovich was thinking…  
Evening has come. So Terekey decided to talk with his guest one more time and command servants to get the chess.  
He went and in the corridors of palace met the Wise One Ai, old shaman, out of his mind. Terekey decided it’s a true good sign.  
“What will you tell me, Wise One Ai? Have you heard rumors?”  
“I’ve heard… I am ready!”  
“Ready for what?”  
“To go and seek the salvation for your people.”  
Terekey laughed.  
“There is no need for you to go. Thank you, old man.”  
“Will see… You will call – Ai will come!”  
“Some time, old man…”  
So Terekey came to Gorizvet to play chess…

Servants put the droad on the table, put the figures – black and crimson – and stepped aside.  
“Had you already played this game?” asking Terekey from Gorizvet.  
“I’ve seen it, but haven’t played.”  
“So I will teach you. It’s a nice deal – to have a talk while playing chess…”  
“I prefer not to talk, but to go by Giant’s path…” Gorizver murmuring. But listening.  
Terekey showed and told what each figure named and how acts. Began to play.  
“Actually, I’ve got one late question to you, Gorizvet Jelanovich. You are not afraid of death, you have the ring. Tell me at last – how can you vouch that you will not turn the power against us when you got it?”  
“I cannot vouch. I have nothing to swear on – thanks to Step people. I have no one to give as hostages – thanks to bogatyr’s children. But your tsar was right. If I wanted juts to dertroy you, my friends, I would get any living men, any Russian – or the other kind! – interpreter. Russian lands are large! But I came to you… And may a ask?”  
“Ask.”  
“Why is this game so strange? Why does the King may do only a step?”  
“Because the king’s step costs a lot. So and our tsar will stay here, at his throne. And I, his true warrior, noble murza, will go with you.”  
“It was already decided?”  
“Yes, Gorizvet Jelanovich.”  
“So why have you come here with this game?”  
“I wanted to see your eyes one more time.”  
“And what can you tell about my eyes?”  
“Crimson. And your crimson queen are trampled by my elephant. Your king are defenseless. The game is over. And we will go tomorrow, on a sunset. Will ride for a night, till the midday, and will continue at next sunset…”  
“Good deal, noble murza! But may I’ve got one more young juicy girl for a last time?”  
“Of course! Which one you want? Arabian, Tugarian or the Russian one?”  
“Give me the Russian and let her hair be like a gold.”  
“We have a lot of… Nazdorovye, dear guest!”  
Terekey went out, Gorizvet stayed alone. He took a crimson figure from the broad, looked closer. One, other one… Kings, officers, towers, pests… Looks like a steepen idols.  
Gorizvet thinking, smiling.  
Only to get the black god’s power! And then all will burn. And Tugarian, and Russian!  
He already knew the main question he will ask: “Does anybody know the city of Divyi Yar?”. The one will recall – the one will live… 

MUSHROOMS 

So Terekey and Gorizvet had left at sunset. Evening, night and the morning have passed in the road, the day wayfarers had slept away.  
On a second evening the crossed a river, went to the North… and Gorizvet stopped his horse, stood frozen and sniffed.  
“What’s wrong, Gorizvet Jelanovich?”  
“A smell of home… ghost of moor came with the wind. We are not far from my home. Spirit of my mother, princess Jelana, lived near the moor for a long time after her death. She was protecting me… But then bogatyr’s children have come and now… she’s gone…”  
Terekey listening and recalling the sight of head of Kalin tsar, his father’s head. The head of clay. It’s all what had been left – the body of great tugarian chief was torn apart by horses in field near the city of Kiev.  
But still he felt creep a little bit – he heard some stories about old burned city.  
At the end of third day the mountains rose above horizon, the road twitched by the grass. They have come.  
The stone idol were standing on a little hill near the road as he should. Looking straightly to the North. The hill, as well as an idol’s enormous mouth, was covered by moss and mushrooms.  
Tugarin and upir lighted a fire and cleaned out the stone mouth of moss and mushrooms.  
As the book say, they began to feed an idol. Put the bread into mouth, poured the water and the wine. And Terekey cut his finger and spattered his living blood there.  
“And then we should eat something which idol has…”  
“He has not much… Moss and mushrooms. What do you prefer, noble murza?”  
“The both is worse. Or moss, or mushrooms. I’m nomad of Great Steppe. I don’t understand, how do you, Russians, can bare to eat such things…”  
“I do not eat for years. But you – please, taste. If you don’t want to offend our guide…”  
“But what about you. How will you go further if you aren’t able to eat…”  
“I’ll come up with it somehow…”  
So, without any choice, Terekey took three mushrooms and fried it on his knife above the fire.  
“But how should I know that I will not… how you, Russians, call the death sometimes? That I won’t be taken by the Karachun, hm?”  
“Try a bit. If it’s not bitter, it’s not poisonous. I think so…”  
Terekey tasted the mushroom. Tasteless…  
He ate all three.  
“And what are you going to do, Gorizvet Jelanovich? Would you taste these mushrooms?”  
“Ah? What do you think about it? Was it hearty?”  
“Not much. Hungry again…”  
“Well, that’s good!” Gorizvet smiled, showed his sharp teeth… and began to crawl to Terekey. “Let’s try a little!..”  
Terekey stood, wanted to pull his sword, but Gorizvet was faster. Moment – and upir cached tugarin, and they had fallen to the grass.  
“Hush, murza! I won’t kill you. Just try a little, remember? Or you don’t want me to go with you there? I say lie still or it could be really hurt!”  
At last Gorizved stabbed his fangs into Terekey’s neck. Tugarin was hissing, swearing, but endured.  
“So, was it scary?” asked Gorizvet then, wiping his lips. “I am an old beast, careful. And why do I need to kill you? I need you alive!”  
Terekey wiped his neck, rose and said:  
“If we were in Tugarian camp I would order to tear you apart by horses!”  
“If we were in Tugarian camp I would find someone more pliable and tasty than you, murza. You are crossbreed.”  
“What you have said? I am…”  
“What… are you?”  
“My family is very ancient and pure.”  
“Well… Sometimes young lady looks pure, but look a bit closer…”  
“Mind your dead tongue, Gorizvet Jelanovich!..”  
And so tugarin and upir were swearing and arguing in the moonless night.  
And then was time for rest. Both lied down for sleep near the idol: Terekey on a left side, Gorizvet – on the right. 

***  
They were awake at one time. Dream has gone as one moment.  
The dawn was breaking, sky was going grey. Thin smoke or fog was floating by the field.  
But the idol seems not going to turn – he was standing as he was, looking straightly to the North.  
And not a trace of horses…  
“So, are you pleased, upir? Three days in a saddle just to eat mushrooms? And what we are going to do now?”  
“To face the rising sun, for example.”  
“Won’t you melt under the sun?”  
“Look…”  
Terekey turned to the east, wherefrom Sun should come, but there – only darkness.  
Sun was slowly coming from the other side of the world – from the north. The cold, pale Sun, shrouded in silver smoke.  
And the idol looks there – straightly to the rising Sun.  
“Come, noble murza. We must go this way, against the Sun…”


End file.
